


Sherlollipops - Could I Have This Dance

by MizJoely



Series: 221 Sherlollipops [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: But I don't care, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Sherlolly - Freeform, sooo sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:05:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1431247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU version (written well before S3) of the John & Mary nuptuals with a hefty heaping helping of Sherlolly fluff and some light Taylor Swift bashing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlollipops - Could I Have This Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by all the lovely fics where Molly and Sherlock dance at John and Mary's wedding. My take on same. So sad we didn't get anything like this in Season 3. Warning: Unabashedly soppy and romantic, especially the ending. Song title owned by the lovely and talented Ann Murray, Sherlock universe owned by BBC & Moftiss although I wish it were mine. Oh, and one tiny confession: John's opinion of Taylor Swift? It's actually mine (don't tell Taylor, I don't want to hurt her feelings). Story rating is K+.

Molly Hooper and Mary Watson do not exactly hit it off from the start. Where Molly is shy, reserved, a bit gruesome in her sense of humor when she allows it to show at all, Mary is vivacious, outgoing, and most of all, assertive. She comes from a large family – two sisters and two brothers – where Molly is an only child. Her parents are still living where Molly's have been gone since she was a child and at uni, respectively (she never really knew her mother, sadly, but her father is someone she still misses daily). Mary is blunt where Molly is circumspect, loud where Molly is quiet, and openly flirtatious with her husband-to-be where Molly has always felt public displays of affection were a bit gauche. Mostly, she admits to herself, because she's rarely found herself in a position to judge from the inside out, as it were, rather than from the outside in.

Another reason she and Mary don't immediately become BFF's, as she knows the younger crowd would put it, is because frankly she feels like a third wheel whenever they get together for drinks or the occasional dinner. John always encourages her to bring a date, she always murmurs something along the lines of "yes, of course" and always ends up coming alone.

Because one thing Molly Hooper does quite badly is date. Every man she's ever set her cap at (she loves that term, no matter how old fashioned, which is undoubtedly another reason she's still alone at the ripe old age of 32) turns out to be married (Greg Lestrade, she had such a crush on him, they dated once when he and his wife were separated, what a disaster), emotionally unavailable (Sherlock Holmes, believed at this point in time to still be dead by all but her and his brother Mycroft), gay (Jim from IT), or a psychopathic killer (reference Jim from IT, only call him Jim Moriarty, criminal mastermind and currently dead-for-real-dead, thank God).

In spite of their less-than-auspicious start, Molly still finds herself one of Mary's bridesmaids – along with Mary's two sisters, three best college mates and the Matron of Honor, John's sister Harry (no longer drinking, her life solidly back together ever since her brother nearly fell apart during Sherlock's two-year hiatus as a dead man). She marvels at how this came about as she fidgets with the halter-style top of her dress and desperately refrains from fiddling with her curly, beribboned updo as she stares at herself in the mirror.

The two of them tried very hard to reach this point, but Molly knows it isn't simply a concession to John that has landed her in this position, one of the Chosen Few, as they laughingly refer to themselves (Harry, of course, is the Anointed One and her two adorable daughters, the flower girls, have given themselves the lofty titles of Bearer of the Petals – Donna, the ten-year-old's choice – and Scatterer of the Pretty White and Yellow Rose Petals That Aunt Mary Gave Us To Carry Down the Aisle – Polly Watson is seven and extremely verbose, to put it mildly). No, Molly is here because she and Mary finally found something to bond over during a lunch together, the first one where John had been unable to join them.

It isn't work; Mary is a Sociology professor at Oxford who couldn't tell one end of a scalpel from another if it wasn't for the fact that she'd cut herself if she tried to hold it incorrectly. She loves dogs, where Molly has always been a cat person. She is always flawlessly put together, whereas Molly couldn't care two figs about fashion. The list of Things Molly and Mary Don't Have In Common goes on and on, and Molly despairs of finding even one single thing to talk to this woman about – besides John and the believed-to-be-dead Sherlock, whom Mary hears more than enough about from her fiancé – until fate intervenes in the form of an unexpected ring of Molly's mobile.

She remembers how her face flamed as Carrie Underwood's voice singing "Before He Cheats" blared from her jacket pocket; she'd forgotten to turn down the ringtone after entering the restaurant. She fumbles it out and glances at the caller ID; it is a coworker, so she excuses herself with an embarrassed mumble and heads outside to answer the call. It isn't an emergency after all, so after reassuring Meena that yes, she'll finish up the paperwork on Mr. Davies (heart attack, nothing suspicious in spite of his sister's insistence that his wife must have poisoned him) as soon as she returns from lunch.

Mary had brushed off her apologies, then surprised Molly by demanding why she'd chosen that particular ringtone. When Molly had admitted to her not-so-secret love of American country-pop crossover music – current and even the older stuff from the late 1970s and early 1980s – Mary had revealed her own passion for the same genre, and a lifelong friendship was born.

It is this love that nearly derails Mary's love for John Watson. Two weeks before the wedding Molly meets them for lunch, only to find the two of them arguing over the music they will dance their first dance as husband and wife to. John is insisting rather loudly that it has to be the first song they ever danced to – "Always and Forever" by Luther Vandross, more American music and a very lovely song – while Mary is almost tearfully declaring that it has to be "Could I Have This Dance For The Rest Of My Life" by Ann Murray.

The problem isn't that they can't agree; the problem, as it turns out, is that John absolutely hates American country-pop crossover music (he is especially vehement about his hatred for Taylor Swift, whom he declares to be a "breathy, overhyped, no talent bit of nothing."

It is at this point that Molly finally decides to intervene, seeing quite clearly that both John and Mary are getting a bit too worked up over such a ridiculous thing – and she has learned to read Mary well enough to recognize when the words "If that's how you feel, John Watson, then the wedding is off!" forming on her friend's lips.

She cuts them off – the words, not the lips – by offering a loud, cheerful, "Hello you two! Sorry I'm late! What's all the fuss?" as if she hasn't been standing behind them for several minutes, debating on whether or not she should do something or just leave them to it. It is another difference between herself and Mary; where Molly would rather cut off her own lips (for real this time) than start a fight in public, Mary is absolutely unafraid to do so.

It takes a bit of doing, but she manages to calm them both down and get them to understand how ridiculous they are being. John admits to overreacting, Mary admits to an attack of nerves, glasses of wine help all three relax a bit – and then Sherlock nearly destroys the peace by strolling up to them and deducing the entire argument, which he missed by being late to the lunch.

Ah, Sherlock. Molly is always happy to see him, always has a girlish thrill at the sight of him, always warms from the inside out – but this time, this one time, she could gladly smash her wineglass over his head, or at least dash the dregs into his snarky (but still gorgeous) face. She amazes herself by being the one to get him to shut up and let the détente have time to settle, by threatening to do exactly as she has imagined and holding her wine glass in front of his face and saying: "One more word, Sherlock, just one more, and I swear I will pour this on your lap!"

Sherlock has been back from the dead for only two months at this point, but this is the first time Molly has allowed him to see her temper, the one he always seems to squash just by his mere presence and larger-than-life personality. Even when he slept on her sofa during the first two weeks of his being-deadness and drove her spare with his twitchiness and outbursts of anger she'd kept her own temper well under control, not quite cowed but certainly understanding that it wasn't exactly the easiest of times for him.

She certainly hadn't revealed her temper to him after his return, when he'd nearly scared the life out of her in the St. Bart's locker room. All she'd done was hug him warmly, welcome him home and listen as he gave her the recap version of his exciting return to the world of the living (John's blog contained a great deal more detail and made for a very entertaining read). Things between them had certainly become more comfortable since his admission that she counted and that he'd always trusted her, but he was clearly taken aback by not only her threat but by the seriousness in her eyes when she made it.

That confrontation, mild though it was, had been the very thing Mary and John needed to return fully to their senses, find a way to laugh about their differences in opinion when it came to music, and agree to dance to both songs – John's choice for first dance, Mary's choice for the dance reserved for the wedding party as a group.

Since that day Molly has occasionally caught Sherlock eyeing her as if she were an interesting specimen he'd noticed under his microscope, but he always turns away when she gives him a questioning glance in return.

And now they are both in the wedding party; he as John's best man and she as one of the bridesm...er, Chosen Ones. She giggles a bit at the silly name Mary's sister Annie has christened them with, giggles a bit more as she spots John's adorable nieces prancing about in their white and yellow flower girl dresses (so much easier to call them that than by their own preferred monikers), then schools her face into a serious expression as she catches an unexpected glimpse of a male profile in the mirror – a very familiar, very handsome male profile at that.

What on Earth is Sherlock doing in the bride's dressing rooms? Is he looking for her, has a case come up…oh. No, he was walking over to John's sister, whispering something in her ear. Harry gave him a startled look, glanced over at Molly, grinned, whispered something back to Sherlock, nodding the entire time…

…and Molly quickly turned herself away, face flushing. She refuses to speculate on what she has just witnessed, resolutely keeping herself away from Harry as Sherlock leaves the room as quickly and quietly as he entered. She will not ask; if it is something she needs to know, Harry will tell her. Or Sherlock will.

Neither of them, however, speak to her before the ceremony, at least not about why they were whispering and looking at her. She feels uncomfortably like she did in school, when some of the popular girls decided to make her life a living hell by talking about her – not so much behind her back as simply behind their own hands, their pretty, mean eyes on her the entire time. Letting her know that yes, they were discussing her – and not in a good way.

The ceremony begins and she puts such ridiculous thoughts from her mind. Harry whispers that she looks lovely, winks, and takes her place at the head of the line. Molly feels a bit better after that, straightens her spine confidently and takes her place by Mary's brother Dan's side as the music announcing their imminent march down the aisle begins.

She has forgotten all about Sherlock's whispered conversation with Harry by the time they leave the church and arrive at the hotel where the reception is taking place. She is dreamily watching John and Mary sway together to their chosen song, waiting for the music to end and the next song to begin when she first becomes aware that the man standing next to her is no longer Dan Morstan but Sherlock Holmes.

"Sherlock!" she hisses as she belatedly recognizes his lean form – so dazzling in the black tux, even if his tie is slightly askew – next to hers. "What are you doing? The next song is about to begin, you're supposed to be dancing with Harry!" Because of course the Best Man and Matron of Honor always dance together, just as each bridesmaid is to dance with the groomsman who escorted her down the aisle.

"Change of plans," Sherlock replies breezily, just as the first song ends and the second begins. The wedding party enters the dance floor even as the other guests are clapping and cheering the bridal couple; Sherlock grabs her hand and gently tugs, and suddenly Molly finds herself in his arms, dancing to the strains of the very song John and Mary had been arguing about two weeks ago.

Molly feels her face flushing and concentrates very hard on not stumbling, not stepping on Sherlock's feet – and, most importantly, not fainting. Because her head is swimming dizzily whilst simultaneously feeling somewhat like a balloon on a string, not really attached to her body, which fortunately manages to follow Sherlock's lead in spite of her mental absence.

When she manages to get control of her giddiness, she finds Sherlock gazing down at her with an unreadable expression on his face. She takes a chance and murmurs the question that has been buzzing through her mind ever since he took her hand. "Why? Why did you switch out with Dan? Is something wrong?"

He tuts and holds her just a bit closer as they sway to the music. "No, Molly, nothing's wrong. In fact, I'd say everything's right for a change, wouldn't you? Or did you not want to dance with me tonight?"

Her flush deepens and she drops her gaze. Well, it's no secret how she feels about Sherlock; even he finally got the message that horrible Christmas two years ago. She's long since resigned herself to never having more than a friendship with him, so why is he teasing her about it now, at John's wedding of all places?

She would suspect liquor were involved if it weren't for the fact that she knows he rarely indulges and certainly never over-indulges. She suspects that's due to his past drug use, which he confessed to her before she helped him "kill" himself, since the faint white scars on the insides of his elbows would have been impossible for her to miss when she removed his shirt in order to dress the corpse that would act as his body double. She would even suspect drugs were involved tonight if it wasn't for the fact that his eyes are clear, his hand warm on hers, his pulse…

Well. She can see his pulse in his throat since he has loosened the tie even further and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, and it looks rather fast even considering the fact that they are dancing. It is not, however, a fast dance, which means…what, exactly, Molly isn't sure, but her own pulse is suddenly much faster and her breathing is affected as well as she continues to gaze into his pale blue eyes. "Sherlock," she says, then falls silent, unsure of what, exactly, she wants to say to him.

He saves her the effort of trying to figure out his motives by leaning closer and closer until his mouth meets hers for a tender kiss that steals what remains of her breath away. And when had both his arms come around her waist, when had hers encircled his neck – and when, she wondered through her haze of happiness, had he decided he wanted to kiss her?

The sound of cheering and applause brings her back to the present, and she gasps as she pulls away from the kiss and finds that the two of them are alone on the dance floor. The cheering and applause is all for them, with John and Mary leading the charge.

Molly knows it's physically impossible for her to go up in flames, but it certainly feels that way as she blushes from her torso to the top of her head. She steals a look at Sherlock, certain that he'll be absolutely mortified – mortified enough to never kiss her again, ever – and is astonished to see a tolerant grin on his lips. Her own lips open in an "O" of astonishment as their eyes meet...

...and she feels as if she is going to pass out when he leans down and pulls her to him for another kiss, just as deep and satisfying as the first one.

The cheers devolve into cat-calls and encouraging hoots, liberally laced with cries of "Get a room!" and "It's about bloody time!" (That last sounding suspiciously like Greg Lestrade's voice.) When Sherlock finally allows her to come up for air she is still blushing, but a vibrant smile has settled onto her lips, one that she knows will be very, very hard to displace.

Sherlock gives a mocking bow, the clapping and cat-calls finally come to an end and he draws her arm through his as he escorts her from the dance floor. Someone has taken the time to change out the name tags placed on the head table, so that Molly and Sherlock are now seated next to one another.

He holds her chair for her, she takes her seat and watches dreamily as he joins her, placing his hand over hers where it rests on the table. They are alone; the rest of the bridal party, Mary's parents included, are dancing to something a bit too disco-ish for Molly's taste, but she hardly hears it as she gazes into Sherlock's eyes. "What was that all about?" she finally asks. "I know it wasn't an experiment or just for show, right?"

Even as she says the words she hears the underlying uncertainty in her voice, because she doesn't actually know if it was an experiment or just for show. This has all been rather sudden, and in her experience Sherlock generally only does "sudden" when a case is involved.

He sighs and interlaces their fingers, bringing her hand up to his lips and placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "No, Molly, stop overthinking it. It is exactly what it appears to be – acknowledgment of my feelings for you."

He says the word "feelings" without his usual sneer, sounding utterly sincere as he gazes into her eyes. She finds herself blinking away sudden tears as her lips stutter out a timid: "O-okay."

"Molly, please don't cry," he says, sounding a bit panicky now, his grip on her hand tightening a bit. "I've known that my feelings for you had changed some time ago, but it wasn't until recently that I realized how idiotic I'd been in not sharing them with you, or acting on them." He grimaces, his eyes darting into the dancing crowd for a moment before he adds in disgruntled tones: "John might have had a hand in prompting me to finally act."

Molly knows, absolutely knows, that Sherlock is only admitting to that last part because if he doesn't John will take the credit anyway; she can tell by the triumphant smirk on their friend's face as he and his new wife dance by the table. Mary gives her a grin of her own and a quick thumbs up, then they are swept away by the crowd, once again leaving Molly and Sherlock alone.

Holding hands. She is holding hands with Sherlock after he has kissed her twice. In public, in full view of all their friends and John and Mary's now joined families. Furthermore, she knows it is because he doesn't want her to fret and worry as she has been doing, that he wants her to understand that this change in their relationship is not some idle fancy he will drop as soon as he is bored or tired of her company.

"Does this mean I can call you my boyfriend?" she asks impulsively, grinning as he rears his head back and glowers at her.

"Do not ever refer to me in so juvenile a manner, Molly Hooper," he pronounces in deeply offended tones. "Besides," he adds before she can decide whether she wishes to continue teasing him or just let it go, "I'd much rather you called me your fiancé."

Like a conjurer, he pulls a small, royal blue velvet ring box from his pocket, opens it with a flourish and shows her the contents: a ring, a small but perfect deep blue sapphire surrounded by tiny diamonds set on a white gold band. "Marry me, Molly Hooper," he says, his voice deeper than normal and a bit husky as well.

Once again tears are welling up in her eyes; once again they are tears of happiness. She does not trust her own voice, simply nods and allows him to slip the ring onto her finger. It is a perfect fit, but she would expect nothing less from Sherlock Holmes.

She is bursting to shout her happiness to the world, but recognizes that it is John and Mary's day, not hers – until she is once again proven wrong in her assumptions. The sound of applause once again fills her ears, and she looks up to see the entire wedding party gathered around them, with the rest of the guests in the background. John reaches across the table and shakes Sherlock's hand. "Good on you, mate!" he crows, smiling at Molly. "Didn't think he could pull it off, to be honest."

Oh. So this had all been planned...she is willing to bet that the whispered conversation – the one she'd assumed was Sherlock asking Harry to switch dance partners – was just to throw her off the scent, to make her think it was a spontaneous decision. Her tears turn to laughter as she once again blushes – three times in less than a half-hour, her cardio-vascular system is getting quite the workout this evening – and holds up her hand to show off the ring.

The rest of the night passes in a blur, and when it is over and John and Mary have left for their honeymoon in Ireland, she discovers that Sherlock has made plans of his own for the two of them.

Plans that she is quite happy not to share with John and Mary, or anyone else for that matter, since they mostly involve Sherlock taking off her clothes and apologizing for ever making a disparaging remark about her figure.

She is too busy kissing him to come up with a retort – and then too busy helping him remove his own clothing to worry about the past.

The future, she discovers, is full of wonderful surprises just waiting to be shared with the man she has loved for as long as she's known him.

Not the least of which is how he whispers: "I love you, Molly Hooper" before making love to her for the first time.


End file.
